Love Bites
by LiveToLie
Summary: Ereri short stories, one-shots, and drabbles. Ratings and summaries posted per fic. Stories still being added as written.


_Levi is consoled by an attractive young man about his disgust with the state of public transit—dirty, disgusting mode of travel that it is. And, as it turns out, the young man might not be so bad. In fact, he might be the exact opposite._

 _Rated T for language._

 **Trains Are Fucking Disgusting**

No, Levi wasn't fond of riding the train. It was always crowded, especially in the mornings on his way into Kyoto, and the thought of having to hold those metal handles or the rings above his head was practically nauseating (with or without gloves). Most of the time, he liked to try and place himself in a corner near the door, that way he could try and keep his balance when the train shifted without colliding into other people, and thus wouldn't have to touch the disgusting bars. Most of the time, though, that thought was a simple pipe dream, and so he always ended up touching something.

The Kyoto bound train was generally stuffed full, and so there was no escaping having to hold on, not if he didn't want to be a bowling ball colliding into pins of people.

Still, he put it off as long as possible, the twenty-minute trip usually bearable for half the time. The crowd never ceased, though, and soon Levi was pushed up into the corner, a scowl crawling onto his face as he gave in took hold of the metal bar atop the seat behind him. He held up his briefcase in his other hand, supposing he should be thankful at least that was safe.

Above his head, it was announced that they were arriving at Ishiyama Station, the horde waiting outside to board only putting Levi in a worse mood. They pushed their way in once the doors opened, very few getting off. And, as usual, there was one passenger in particular that Levi took note of. He was a caucasian man with shaggy brown hair and his nose toward his phone. He wasn't terribly tall, but taller than Levi, and he generally had headphones over his ears.

The fact that he was white was probably the only reason Levi took note of him. He usually stood out among the throngs, but wasn't unusual enough to be gawked at (sometimes). Even Levi, who was half Japanese, was stared at occasionally, but that was hardly here nor there. Point was, the young man never seemed the least bit perturbed by the way they were all smushed in together, and usually took to standing at Levi's shoulder beside the door.

Deterring his attention to the window, Levi pretended not to notice, knowing full well it'd be incredibly rude to stare at the only white guy in the train car. Not that he wanted to stare anyway. Sure, the guy was good looking, but he was hardly someone Levi would take an interest in. Always in sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt. Tall boots. He looked like a punk, frankly.

Probably was.

Train rides weren't always steady, however, and as they approached Otsu, the breaks jerked, sending everyone forward. And Levi, who'd been trying to hold onto the disgusting handle as lightly as possible, accidently let it slip, eyes bugging as he was thrown from the corner. He grappled with the rings above his head as best he could, but they'd bounced out of reach.

He was going to fall right into White Guy.

White Guy, whose green eyes were wide as well, saw Levi tipping toward him. Phone still in hand, he braced himself, catching Levi by the upper arm before they could collide.

It all happened in a matter of seconds, but it'd seemed much longer to Levi. Able to catch his bearings with the arm support, he got his feet back under him before pulling away. He muttered an intelligible "sorry" as he leaned away, making sure to take a firm hold on the metal railing again despite how he loathed doing so.

"Are you alright?" White Guy asked quietly, honest concern on his face. He had an accent, but Levi couldn't place exactly where it was from. Europe somewhere. Germany maybe?

"Fine," Levi assured, hoping to end the conversation. He'd rather not remain focused on his own stupidity and obsession with cleanliness. White Guy bit the inside of his cheek, but didn't say anything further. They rode to Kyoto without another word, Levi unconsciously wiping his hand on his pants as they got off.

He never saw White Guy on the way home. It was only on the rides in. Not that the trains didn't run all the time or something—it'd be ridiculous to assume they'd take the same train back. Rides back were less crowded anyway, at least at the later hour Levi usually rode. Which meant there was no threat of falling into strangers.

The next day, White Guy still got on at Ishiyama, and Levi made extra attempts not to look at him—as well as to grip the metal bar extra tight. He was practically glaring out the window, White Guy poking at his phone as usual. And perhaps things might have _gone_ as usual had it not been for the woman beside Levi, who'd turned to try and sneeze away from the crowd and ended up with her germs all over Levi's side of the bar.

She wasn't close enough for the attack to have been overtly in Levi's space, but he could still imagine the disgusting germs eventually settling onto his skin. Stiffly, he released the bar, scowling as he stared down at his hand.

"Here." White Guy pulled his attention, Levi glancing down at his hand where he held a wet wipe. He smiled tightly, Levi glancing up at his face before going back to his hand again.

He seemed clean enough most of the time.

"Thanks…" Levi muttered, taking the wet wipe as White Guy nodded and shoved his small package of wipes back into his pocket. He returned his attention to his phone.

Feeling slightly better after having wiped his hand down, Levi spread his legs a little, staring warily as the metal bar. No, he couldn't. It was too immediate. Too disgusting. He'd just stand and keep his balance, even if the train was never easy going.

As he'd predicted would happen at some point, the breaks jarred the train some as they stopped at Yamashina, Levi gritting his teeth as he fought to remain balanced. His whole body wavered to one side and for a second he thought he might lose it—no matter how he pursed his lips in concentration. He simply didn't have the balance.

Until he felt it. A hand, on his shoulder.

Looking over quickly, he saw tanned fingers only slightly squeezing the smooth fabric of his suit jacket. Just enough to keep him in place.

The fingers lead up into a sweatshirt-covered arm, White Guy staring straight ahead despite how he held Levi steady with his phone hand (the other was gripping one of the rings above their heads). And as the train smoothed out, he let go again, never flicking his attention over. Levi stared for some moments, expression straight as the train doors slid open and allowed the last wave of people on board before Kyoto Station.

Not sure whether commentary was wiser or not, Levi eventually glanced away, letting the moment pass. They got off the train without a single look at one another.

The next day, Levi decided to test the theory he'd come up with the day before. This time, instead of taking hold of the railing halfway through the trip, he preoccupied himself with his own phone. Briefcase in his other hand, he was sufficiently busy when Ishiyama came around. Despite the odd "exchange" the day before, White Guy still took up his usual spot. Pretending to be quite unaware, Levi remained facing the window. The train stayed steady on the tracks, White Guy bobbing his head just slightly to whatever it was he was listening to.

And when they approached Otsu, Levi made no attempts to grab the rail—even as the breaks shifted them all forward.

White Guy was holding one of the rings above their heads, his other hand still holding his phone as he reached out. He just barely touched Levi's shoulder, holding it the slightest amount in order to stop any tipping. And as the train came to a stop, he removed it again, once more focused down on his phone.

Levi didn't know what to think, quite honestly. Especially when White Guy reached out and did it again at both Yamashina Station and Kyoto Station.

They got off, yet again exchanging no words, and Levi found himself quite preoccupied with the whole thing for the rest of the day. For one, it was quite an invasion of privacy, reaching out and touching him like that. But it was preferred to touching the bars. Secondly, it meant that White Guy had clearly been paying enough attention to notice his disgust with germy, dirty things over the last three months that they'd been riding the train together. He hadn't realized he'd been so obvious, or that anyone would have cared to observe him so closely.

He'd never caught White Guy looking at him before. Or maybe he'd simply been too busy pointedly _not_ looking at him to see it.

He'd do the experiment the following day as well, he decided. And so refrained from grabbing the bar once he'd boarded. Once again distracting himself with his phone, he tried not to look up when White Guy boarded. And he might have totally refrained from "noticing" him at all had their typical behavior not been altered. Usually, White Guy placed himself beside the door, on Levi's left shoulder as he faced the window, but that day he leaned against the back of the seat, behind Levi. Blinking, Levi flicked his eyes up at the window, but didn't turn to look. Rather, thinking perhaps that the day before had been a mistake in the eyes of White Guy, he put his phone away in his pocket and braced himself to take hold of the bar.

He was thoroughly shocked when, as they approached Otsu Station, White Guy reached up around him. The train hadn't begun to brake yet, but, as if preparing, he'd pulled his hand up toward the door, taking hold of the bar beside it and successfully caging Levi in the corner. Not in an invasive way, but it almost seemed protective, which Levi thought very strange. He had his back to the chest of this stranger, only a sliver of space between them, and not enough time to figure out what to do.

Instead, as the train finally braked, he reached up and took hold of White Guy's outstretched arm to his left, quite against his own control. But it was better than the bar, or so his brain had seemingly argued before he could object.

White Guy's arm was tense, probably from trying to keep them both upright, and Levi tried not to think about the taught muscle he could feel through that sweatshirt. Rather, as soon the train came to a full stop, Levi let go and stood up straight once again.

White Guy, on the other hand, didn't take his arm back. Rather, he kept his hand around the bar, continuing to keep Levi enclosed in the corner even as others filed on and off. Looking over his shoulder just barely, Levi took in the way White Guy situated his weight to the left, still staring down at his phone. He was only inches behind Levi, far closer than he'd really been before. Or, rather, their positions made it seem so.

Levi didn't comment, however. Instead, looking back out the window, he decided to let it ride. If only to see how things went. And while it was odd, he wasn't surprised that White Guy continued to offer his arm as a support for Levi to use instead of the bar. Which, really, Levi found he preferred. The metal bar was on the train all day, with handprints from strangers everywhere. At least White Guy seemed generally clean, and probably less likely to have as many people gripping at him twenty-four seven.

He smelled nice too, but Levi ignored that.

And so, this arrangement continued on for the rest of the week. And the week after. Levi would be fine in abusing the extra space to stay upright until the train was too full. And when White Guy got on at Ishiyama, he took up his new place behind Levi and reached his hand out to the bar beside the door. Whenever the train began to break, Levi reached out and, depending on the force, either took hold of that arm completely or simply pinched the sweatshirt sleeve between two fingers.

They never said a word to each other.

It was a Friday morning—the day their new routine was ruptured.

It happened at Kusatsu Station, one after Moriyama, where Levi got on. There was a large group of what appeared to be college students. A very large group—at least ten of them. And as all the seats were full already, they ended up standing in the middle of the car, chatting and laughing. Naturally, this shoved the other passengers closer together, a development Levi was definitely not okay with. Mostly because the man that had crowded up to him was clearly suffering from some kind of disorder that caused him to be sick and unhygienic at the same time.

Backing as far into the corner as he could, Levi even allowed his body to rest against the train as he glared at the man, who was wiping his nose with his bare hand. Oh god, Levi was going to be sick. This was bullshit. So much bullshit.

He kind of wanted to turn his back on it all. Just stare out the window as he normally did and pretend it wasn't happening. But Dirty-Old-Man only scooted closer when they stopped at Minami-Kusatsu Station, his disturbingly shiny hand getting wiped on his filthy coat. No, Levi had to be on guard. He couldn't touch this… thing. But there were still crowds of people to board and Levi had the terrible feeling that he wasn't going to come out of this unscathed.

Why wasn't the sick bastard wearing a facemask like a normal person? Where was the consideration?

By the time they got to Ishiyama, the car seemed to be twice as crowded as usual. Levi was actually buried by a layer of people already, which normally wasn't the case. And as White Guy got on, Levi was witness to surprise flashing across his face as he took in the way his normal spot had been invaded.

Levi didn't bother looking at him long. It was a lost cause.

Snot-Face stepped back again, actually pressing against him, and Levi stiffened in the corner. He stared up at the ceiling, aware that everyone was suffering and that he was no one significant or deserving of special treatment. But, oh god, he could hear the way Snotty was snorting, wiping his hand again, and part of him wanted to pass out. Maybe he would.

He didn't have anything against sick people, really. He himself got sick on occasion. It was mostly just the strange things that seeped out of people when they were afflicted, himself included. And this was just a little too close for comfort, his stomach feeling queasy as he closed his eyes and mentally chanted over and over again that it wasn't happening.

He was never going to be able to wear this suit again.

"Excuse me." There was a voice repeating over and over, but Levi didn't bother opening his eyes to see why. That was, until it was speaking directly before him. Eyelashes fluttering, he was greeted by a heavy shadow directly in front of him. Muttering polite excuses, he forced his body between Levi and Snot-Machine, jostling the sick man forward.

And _away_ , which was probably the most important part.

He was practically on top of Levi, one hand wrapped around the bar beside them while the other came up to lay flat on the window behind Levi's head. He was caged once again, that familiar sweatshirt only an inch in front of Levi's nose.

But safe and removed.

Shoulders relaxing some, Levi closed his eyes again.

"You okay?" White Guy asked quietly, barely audible just above him.

"Fine," Levi assured, equally as quiet as the train began to brake for Otsu. Reaching up, Levi took hold of the slack of White Guy's shirtsleeve, holding it just between his fingers in order to steady himself. He didn't bother releasing him once they'd stopped.

"You look like you're going to be sick," White Guy continued. "Sure we shouldn't get off here?"

"I'll be alright," Levi muttered. "Just keep Snot-Nose away from me."

"Sure thing." It sounded almost like he was smiling, but Levi didn't open his eyes in order to see.

Instead, he attempted to steady his stomach and take deep breaths. White Guy was clean—he smelled like fresh sheets, and probably the Bliss background that came default on Microsoft operating systems. And he was putting himself between Levi and Snotty. Granted, that meant his backside was getting germy, but that was hardly the point. Rather, Levi was able to relax, managing to rationalize that this was probably a better situation (even if it _really_ wasn't).

The Yamashina stop forced yet more people to wedge their way onto the train, jostling everyone. Grunting, White Guy was shoved closer, his hand slipping from the window to land on Levi's shoulder, this time to steady himself before he smushed the shorter man against the train wall.

"Sorry," he apologized somewhat awkwardly, both of them abruptly aware that their bodies were plastered front to front against each other. Levi still held White Guy's sleeve, his nose skimming his shoulder. Really, their situation wasn't varying greatly from everyone else around them, but that didn't make it any less awkward.

"It's fine," Levi assured, White Guy's hand leaving his shoulder as he placed it on the window behind Levi's head again, this time with even less space between them. Levi tried to move his head—it was at a rather awkward angle—but as he did, the top of his head brushed White Guy's chin, sending a shock through both of them.

Still, Levi wasn't about to get a crick in his neck because he refused to move it the last six minutes of his train ride. Supposing there was nothing to be done, he allowed his nose to brush the middle of White Guy's collar, silent when that chin settled just slightly onto the top of his head.

Because, again, there were worse things. Far worse, actually. In fact, Levi was starting to think that maybe this wasn't so bad, even in a general sense. White Guy wasn't so bad, really, and he always smelled so good.

"I just know how you are about being close to people," White Guy said after a few moments.

"Disgusting people," Levi corrected, his voice only a little muffled in White Guy's sweatshirt.

"Ah, right."

"Where are you from?" Levi asked suddenly, realizing a second too late that the question was probably kind of strange. Or maybe it wasn't. He didn't know. "Your accent—you're not originally from Japan."

"No, I'm from Germany." Ha, Levi had been right. "My father remarried when I was ten and we moved here."

"You do live here, then." He wasn't just some foreign exchange student or something.

"Yeah. I go to University in Kyoto."

Maybe Levi would have said something more, but the train was coming to its final stop. Everyone on board was practically rushing to escape, the doors hardly even open before the crowd was bursting forth. Shaken along with the masses, Levi and White Guy were pushed along.

They remained close to one another for a few moments, but neither were making any direct attempts to stay together (why would they?) and soon Levi was watching as White Guy's mop of brown hair was carried away, eventually fading from sight. Levi was both miffed and disappointed. White Guy had managed to escape the crowd before he had, and done so with Levi still not knowing his name.

He hadn't even realized he'd wanted to know his name until he was gone.

Levi spent the rest of the day thinking about the train incident. Not the vulgar parts, but, rather, what it'd been like to have White Guy that close. And to have, sort of, had a conversation with him.

He had a nice voice, Levi decided. Clear, if not a little thick due to his accent. He probably had a pleasant laugh.

Seeing him again would have to wait till Monday, however. Or so Levi had assumed. Having been begged by his assistant, Petra—who was foreign and so didn't like going places alone—he ended up going shopping in Kyoto. It was crowded, which Levi hated, but there was enough space to keep proper distance, so he was able to moderately enjoy himself.

He did the chivalric thing and carried Petra's bags, allowing her to link arms with him and chatter on as they walked through the skinny streets, stores and restaurants souring up on either side of the road. Taxis, buses, and cars slipped slowly by, and the crosswalks were always a sea of fast paced travelers.

Levi came to a dead stop upon passing by an arcade, however. Blinking, he ignored the way Petra questioned him, his eyes trained on the glass walls.

There were three young people—an Asian girl, a Caucasian blonde that didn't appear to have am identifying gender, and White Guy. They were playing Taiko no Tatsujin—Drum Master. White Guy was trying his best to compete with the girl, but was clearly far, far outmatched. He couldn't smack the drum to the beat nearly as well as she could. Blondie was cheering one of them on (maybe both), and clapped when their song ended, not seeming to care who won. The girl was the victor, obviously, and didn't appear the least bit surprised by the fact. White Guy, on the other hand—in a show of overdramatic sore-losery—pulled at his cheeks with his hands and pretended to sob, spinning around as though he couldn't face the other two.

That was when their eyes met. Like a vacuum had sucked it right off his face, White Guy's expression vanished, replaced with a gaping mouth, wide eyes, and a paling complexion. Levi, by contrast, could only blink, unable to look away even though he knew he probably should.

It was likely only a few seconds, the time they spent staring at each other, but it felt like a lifetime. A torturous, confusing lifetime. Who knew that a dirty place like a train would be where it was most acceptable to encounter such a person. Is was in those few seconds that Levi realized just how unorthodox their arrangement really was—as though he were looking in on it from the outside for the first time.

Their connection, if it could really be called that, was cut short when Petra finally tugged on Levi's arm. Jolted, he glanced over at her, taking in her concerned brows as she looked between him and the man staring from behind the arcade glass.

"Do you know that person?" she asked, as if she were repeating herself. Twitching his attention back to the window, he watched as White Guy quickly looked away, his whole face clearly reddening despite the ten feet of distance between them.

"No," Levi managed to cough out, glancing again to Petra. "Thought he was someone else." Forcefully stopping himself from looking back once more, Levi started walking again, Petra's arm still linked in his as they went.

He wondered if White Guy was watching him leave, but didn't dare turn to find out.

He wasn't quite sure why seeing White Guy outside the train had been so uncomfortable, and Levi spent a majority of the rest of the weekend pondering it. The only conclusion he could come to was that their behavior was so outside the social norms that it made functioning normally seem like too great a contrast—whiplash. That, and it had Levi questioning _why_ they'd started what they'd started in the first place.

There was an answer clear as day in front of him, but he wasn't sure he dared entertain it. For one, White Guy could really just be a Nice Guy, meaning that his behavior shouldn't be taken as anything more than it was. Because, really, what could someone honestly see in Levi after only watching him on the train—where he was usually making disgusted faces about the general state of contamination and avoiding any and all contact with people. Not exactly the best side of him (if he had a best side. Levi wasn't sure sometimes).

His thoughts bounced back and forth between all these ideas until Monday morning, where he was more overtaken by tooth grinding anxiety than anything else. He knew he shouldn't be, but it wasn't always possible to control every bodily function (much to his chagrin), and so he was twice as determined to look at his phone when they reached Ishiyama.

He still saw White Guy get on out of the corner of his eyes. Watched him get on, pause just inside the door-

 _And walk to the corner farthest away from Levi_!

Blinking, phone still held up, Levi's brain momentarily froze in shock, as if he were trying to download what had just happened only to have the internet connection go out. It wasn't until the train pulled away from the station that he finally looked up, eyes narrowing despite himself.

White Guy wasn't facing him. He was staring out the window. Almost like he was _avoiding_ Levi.

Maybe he wasn't so nice after all.

"The hell…" Levi muttered under his breath, disappointed both because he'd actually kind of liked White Guy and because now he had to touch those godforsaken bars and rings. Really, it was bullshit. Levi didn't like bullshit. And he especially didn't like being jerked around. About anything. And offering him a nice, confortable train experience for the first time ever—before yanking it out from under him—was a pretty big deal, at least as far as he was concerned.

Asshole move. Definitely.

Levi always confronted assholes—if not on principle, then because it was usually amusing. He had the feeling, though, that this would be anything but.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, he marched his way across the car, ignoring the other regulars that stared at him. It'd never occurred to him that anyone else had taken note of their behavior, even then.

Reaching up, he snapped White Guy's headphone against his ear, causing him to flinch and turn in surprise. "What the hell is _your_ problem?"

"Um, ow," he said, with more attitude than Levi preferred. He was frowning, pushing his headphones back fully as he did.

"Answer the question."

"I don't have a problem," he replied, sounding awfully pouty, which Levi didn't approve of.

"Clearly you do," he rebuked, quite a few people in the train whispering about them by that point. "Spill it, brat, or I'll make you."

"Is that a threat?"

"Yes."

"I don't even know you, man." A defensive response, one that came out before he put his green eyes back on the window.

"No shit," Levi replied. "Which is why I find myself questioning your sudden decision to pretend I'm not even here, like some kind of petulant child." Nope, he wasn't trying to be delicate. Wasn't exactly a trait Levi indulged in much.

"Excuse me?" he muttered, Levi's disposition quite obviously taking him aback. "I wasn't aware we had some kind of contract."

"Are you seriously that kind of asshole?"

"You're the asshole…" he muttered, once again pouting.

" _Really_?" Levi cocked a single eyebrow. "What'd I ever do to you?"

He could see the way White Guy's lips pursed and loosened, as if he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. He then glanced around the train self-consciously before refocusing in on Levi with his best attempt at a glare.

Leaning down, he spoke so only Levi could hear. "You should have said you had a _girlfriend_!" he hissed.

"What?" Levi asked, barely able to make his confusion clear before the train jerked. They were arriving at Otsu, braking before the station, and Levi flailed out to grab anything as he was knocked off balance.

Eyes wide, White Guy reached out and grabbed his arm, steadying him before he toppled into the people behind. Allowing him just enough time to catch his balance, Levi was then released, White Guy practically retreating into the corner.

Levi'd had more than enough time to put the situation together, however.

"Yeah, right," he muttered, taking a step closer to White Guy as he did. "And clearly, based on that evidence, you must have _two_ girlfriends. But beg my fucking pardon."

White Guy looked confused initially, opening his mouth as though to rebuke, before frowning and clearly changing his train of thought. "Armin's not a girl…"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Levi rolled his eyes. "I guess I shouldn't assume things based on a passing interaction where we didn't even talk to each other."

People were filing onto the train, doing their best to stay away from the heated conversation.

White Guy frowned. "You're kind of bitchy."

"You're kind of an idiot."

White Guy's frown deepened. "Rude."

"I only made the deduction based on the evidence presented."

A comment that seemed to silence White Guy, his shoulders dropping some of their stiffness as his focus fell to the ground. Levi could see the way the tips of his ears had reddened, his cheeks and neck following shortly after.

"Sorry…" he said rather shamefully.

"Good," Levi huffed. "Next time, just ask. Shitty brat."

"Are you always so insulting?"

"Only to people I like." Really, White Guy should be thankful. He didn't usually even _bother_ talking to people he didn't like. It said a lot. "You should be flattered."

"Right." Finally, he cracked a small smile. It was probably the most stunning fucking thing Levi had ever seen, and he was ashamed at how his body wanted to melt into a puddle of goo.

There was a momentary pause between them, as the train started down the rails again. They were both looking out the window, Levi crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight in a rather haughty manner.

"Petra's not my girlfriend," he finally muttered. "She's my assistant."

"Oh."

Levi knew the question that was actually between them, but it was hardly acceptable to voice. The train was too crowded now to be completely certain of secrecy, and though Levi was usually more than willing to break social niceties, he didn't exactly want his personal business open to the world. Especially since so many people on the train appeared acutely interested in what was happening between them.

Fucking drama mongers.

Shifting his briefcase to his other hand, he not so subtly reached out and pinched the slack of White Guy's sleeve between his fingers. He was in no threat of falling, and still had time before the next stop. Which, really, should be message enough.

And maybe it would have been a small gesture, one that meant more between only them, had the abrupt sound of high school girls giggling behind them not ruined it.

"Just stab me in the fucking face right now," Levi muttered under his breath, his own cheeks finally pinking just a little.

White Guy laughed above him before, pulling his sleeve from Levi's light grip and reaching out to settle his hand on his far shoulder. With a gentle pull, he ushered Levi in front of him, which only pulled more giggling from the stupid girls, as well as a few others.

Levi growled, scowling.

Reaching up, White Guy removed his headphones from around his neck before delicately placing them over Levi's ears, his ridiculous j-pop drowning out the humiliation otherwise surrounding them. Levi didn't complain. Rather, he closed his eyes, reaching up to hold the slack of White Guy's sweatshirt, which was clearly held out and holding the bar beside the door.

Levi didn't end up having to touch anything disgusting after all.

Rather, as they got off the train at Kyoto, he was only moderately surprised when a hand wrapped around his own—as if to prevent them from being separated in the throngs of people.

And Levi was even more thrilled (as thrilled as he ever got) to notice that White Guy's hand wasn't a disgusting mess. It was warm, and dry, and only gripped him lightly. Which prevented any gathering of sweat.

Holding his hand was downright pleasant, something Levi had never experienced before.

They were also connected by the headphones, which were still sitting on Levi's head. It gave them a good excuse to step to the side once they were free of the crowd exiting the train, White Guy turning to face Levi as he reached up and pulled the headphones from his ears. He replaced them around his own neck.

"Well, I'm sure we made everyone's day," Levi said bitterly.

"Made my day," White Guy replied, wearing a grin that quickly went uneasy. "I think…"

"What's your name?" Levi asked abruptly, ignoring any insecurity.

"Oh, ha, Eren. Eren Jeager." He was smiling again.

"Levi Ackerman." Rather formally, Levi held out his hand. The gesture was odd, the confusion on Eren's face making that clear enough. Not only because it was a very western gesture, but extremely unorthodox when considering they'd been holding hands two seconds before. Despite this, and with only a little hesitation, Eren reached out and took his hand anyway.

Grip tight, Levi wasted no time. With a quick yank, he jerked Eren down to his level, who grunted in surprise. Any objection, however, was silenced when Levi pressed their lips together.

It was completely inappropriate, especially in a crowded train station, but social constructs had never been Levi's forte, and he'd wanted to do this for weeks—even if he hadn't truly admitted it to himself until that moment.

It took a second, but Eren eventually reciprocated the motion, the both of them closing their eyes as they stood to the side of the moving crowds. They were watched, and whispered about, but that was hardly what mattered. And when they finally pulled apart, they didn't give anyone watching the time of day.

"That was quite the handshake," Eren murmured, cheeks flushed a light pink.

"I'm not the type of guy that messes around."

"I'm beginning to get that."

Releasing Eren's hand, Levi leaned back fully, aware of the way Eren's eyes remained trained on his every move. No wonder he'd realized Levi's disgust with the trains, if he'd been watching at him like that when Levi'd been looking away.

"I have to go to work," Levi said after a moment, distancing himself despite how he loathed doing so. "And you clearly have some kind of schedule to keep."

"Work, school, whatever," Eren shrugged. "I could arrange not to go."

Levi cocked an amused eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead, flipping his briefcase over his shoulder, he made a point of looking Eren slowly up and down before stepping back out into the crowd.

"See you tomorrow, Eren," he said, glancing only quickly over his shoulder. They shared one last look, Eren smiling the whole time, before Levi merged into the crowd.

They met on the train as usual for the rest of the week. Until Friday, when they arranged to eat in Kyoto before riding back together too.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey guys, I'm accepting prompts for more Ereri one-shots on my tumblr - SKayLanphear - so if you have one, drop a note. I can't guarantee if/when they might be written, but I'd like to write more about these two idiots and I need ideas ^-^


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